


No Truck

by Lempo Soi (Lemposoi)



Category: Charlie's Angels (Movies), Kill Bill
Genre: Bisexual Character, Community: kink_bingo, F/F, Fisting, One Night Stands, Post-Canon, Wordcount: 100-1.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-11
Updated: 2011-09-11
Packaged: 2017-10-24 09:50:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/262104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lemposoi/pseuds/Lempo%20Soi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dylan hooks up with a tall blonde.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Truck

Dylan's thighs are wet with her own cum and she's still fucking coming. Just a moment ago she had a thought about whether or not it's a good idea to pick up strangers in bars in the middle of the day after yet another boyfriend turns out to be the bad guy, but she can't remember if it was for or against. At the moment she's having trouble remembering even her own name.

“You just can't get enough, can you?” Beatrix mutters in her ear, her long body stretched against Dylan's back, and Dylan would answer, but then Beatrix does that thing with her fingers again and Dylan finds herself undone by another burst of pleasure.

They haven't even got all their clothes off yet. Dylan's trashy band shirt (not as effective at helping deter hook-ups as she'd anticipated) lay on the floor in the apartment's small hallway, but her bra was still on, pushed aside and digging into her flesh, and her pants and panties were only halfway down her thighs. She wasn't sure Beatrix had lost so much as a hairband.

Alex and Natalie thought Dylan always went for the bad guys. Alex said it was a sixth sense for danger that had a direct line into Dylan's pants. Natalie just thought it was hard luck. But it wasn't just the bad guys – or girls, but they were maybe two in a dozen – that Dylan liked, it was wrong ones. The wronger, the better. Like an afternoon drinker who couldn't disguise a fighter's instincts no matter how hard she tried, who could probably give Dylan a run for her money any day - a woman whose small apartment showed clear signs of a child's presence and none of more than one adult. A single mom assassin? You could potentially choose a worse candidate, but not by much.

“Beatrix, fuck,” Dylan gasped.

“Sure,” said Beatrix, and slipped in another finger.

Four? Could it be f-- “Shit, woman.” Dylan laughed out loud. “Are you trying to kill me?”

“Not by a long shot,” said Beatrix and pushed in her thumb.

Dylan fell down against the fuzzy carpet by the tea table, on her fours with her ass in the air. Beatrix slipped her hand deeper inside her, biting Dylan's shoulder softly as he did.

“Bea--”

“Shh.” Beatrix nipped her harder and began to curl her fingers into a fist.

“Nn--” Dylan couldn't quite get the word out. She was so full it hurt, but Beatrix's knuckles were pressing into her just so, and it was--

“You actually took it,” Beatrix said, her voice husky with – what? Delight? “You should see this, Dylan. I'm wrist-deep in you. I don't exactly have delicate hands, either.”

“Beatrix,” Dylan breathed. “God.”

“Hardly,” said Beatrix, and started to move her hand. Dylan bit the carpet to keep from screaming. It didn't help for long.

*

“I have to go pick up my kid.” Beatrix was lying with Dylan on the carpet, still flushed and smiling slightly. There was something about that smile that reminded Dylan of two contradictory things, or two people that shouldn't go together.

“I should check my phone,” Dylan said, meaning, 'I get it, this was just random for me, too, and I'm glad we both get it despite what they say about lesbians and moving trucks'. “I may have screamed over the tone.”

“Thanks, Dylan,” Beatrix says, and kisses her softly. Fuck, but sometimes Dylan gets the moving truck bit. It's the same with the bad guys. If she was thinking clearly, she'd never go near them. They just make her stop caring about what's smart.

She forces herself to stop imagining what Beatrix's kid is like, and reaches down to pull up her pants.

She's already halfway down the stairway when Beatrix's smile clicks into place. It's a little bit like Madison Lee, and a little bit like the timbre in Charlie's voice. It's that timbre that always told her that wherever Charlie is, he's happy, in that contented way only years can bring.

Madison, after a happy ending.

Wrong enough to fall in love with.

Dylan squeezed her eyes shut and forced herself down the rest of the way, into her car, and down the street. At the outskirts of the city, she began to breathe easy.  
   



End file.
